as we move, again, to the west (31 july 2006)
trappedinmyradio
Posts: 1,189
peachy keen and happy to be alive
and it's finally time to dine or walk away
from this broccoli topped masterpiece i've
called home for so long...humming your song
==========================================
throw that part away...it's an abortion...a false-start
==========================================
i am not sure exactly when the clock struck twelve
and a new world emerged void of cellophane stars
and candy cane trees towering over spinning-wheel flowers
yes, sometime after the eye of the storm that became
the commonplace afterthought of this tiny, tired iris...
i was swept into the abysmal, straight-faced horizon
of the real world and subsequently hatcheted down to size
with a dull, plastic children's axe. in my wide-eyed approach
to being overzealous, i threw away the script for living
on the yellow brick road...the streets made with cheese...
and the glorious, golden avenue to the west. instead, i found
a life that was easily cut into the shadowed-in portions
of a salvador dali throw away...still dripping...literally.
the staircase, ladder, and statute-required fire escape were
broken down and beaten into submission long before the knock
on the door, the roof needed re-tarred, or the fire alarm woke me
from a cocoa-bean dream at breakneck speed in g.
i finally woke up and remembered the dream and life became
like little carved ball from the pre-cogs and these premonitions...
these...psychic flashes...came straight from the girl...the twins
were flailing about trying to figure out masturbation and e equals
em see squared and how they both relate to the contined happiness
and maintenance of the species. we were, as it were, as it is,
only biding our time in a confined space with a self-containted
breathing apparatus, an escape rated respirator...and we were
running out of time. i needed someone to help me up...to peck me
on the shoulder and turn me in...and here i am...
and it's finally time to dine or walk away
from this broccoli topped masterpiece i've
called home for so long...humming your song
==========================================
throw that part away...it's an abortion...a false-start
==========================================
i am not sure exactly when the clock struck twelve
and a new world emerged void of cellophane stars
and candy cane trees towering over spinning-wheel flowers
yes, sometime after the eye of the storm that became
the commonplace afterthought of this tiny, tired iris...
i was swept into the abysmal, straight-faced horizon
of the real world and subsequently hatcheted down to size
with a dull, plastic children's axe. in my wide-eyed approach
to being overzealous, i threw away the script for living
on the yellow brick road...the streets made with cheese...
and the glorious, golden avenue to the west. instead, i found
a life that was easily cut into the shadowed-in portions
of a salvador dali throw away...still dripping...literally.
the staircase, ladder, and statute-required fire escape were
broken down and beaten into submission long before the knock
on the door, the roof needed re-tarred, or the fire alarm woke me
from a cocoa-bean dream at breakneck speed in g.
i finally woke up and remembered the dream and life became
like little carved ball from the pre-cogs and these premonitions...
these...psychic flashes...came straight from the girl...the twins
were flailing about trying to figure out masturbation and e equals
em see squared and how they both relate to the contined happiness
and maintenance of the species. we were, as it were, as it is,
only biding our time in a confined space with a self-containted
breathing apparatus, an escape rated respirator...and we were
running out of time. i needed someone to help me up...to peck me
on the shoulder and turn me in...and here i am...
I'll dig a tunnel
from my window to yours
from my window to yours
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
i hate the typoes and the inability to change it!
from my window to yours